Winter In Westchester

Title:  Winter in Westchester Author:  Terri E-mail:  xgrrl26@yahoo.com Rating:  NC-17 Archive:  Peep Hut, Dolphin Haven, Agony and Ecstasy - anyone else, please ask ;) Feedback:  Please?  With some help taming the bunnies on top?  Good, bad, and ugly welcome…. Summary:  A Seasons story that has Rogue in search of polar bears and a just-escaped Logan in search of a mate.  Comments:  Sit down, relax, it’s a long comments section ;)  For those of you who don’t know, the premise of ‘Seasons’ stories like this one is a cross between the X-Men and Stephen King’s The Stand - Legacy has killed off most humans and mutants, and the few survivors are left to cope.  I’d begun writing this one a looong way back, and the bunny for it came from CJ and Jennie although now I can’t quite remember how it got a tooth in me ;)  I’d written a fair-sized chunk of it and gotten stuck until a couple of things happened - one, someone on the TerriKelific list reminded me that I’d teased the opening of this fic and never fessed up with the whole enchilada; and, two, my boyfriend borrowed The Stand to read on his flight back home after he was at La Casa De Terri for a visit (Hi, honey!) this past weekend.  It reminded me that sometimes it really is kind of satisfying to kill off mostly everyone in the world and play around in the universe that’s left ;)  There are other parts that were inspired more directly by my boyfriend, but he’ll recognize those and the rest of you don’t really need to know ;)  Yes, I am a bit of a tease ;)  But never let it be said that I don’t produce the fic I tease - it may take a few months, but darn it, I finish ‘em eventually!  ;-) ----------------------------------------------------------- He wasn’t sure what the world was like before - he didn’t remember anything before the lab - but he was fairly sure it hadn’t been like this.  There had been more people, he thought - a lot more people, and a lot less destruction and decay.  From somewhere buried deep inside himself, he’d had an expectation that there would be structure and order out here, and even if the animal in him rejoiced at a world in which it could use its talents and disposition to the fullest, the man in him persistently wondered just what had gone wrong.  He’d thought about asking the few people he’d seen to explain it all to him.  Of course, he’d also thought that the few people he’d seen would probably serve him better as a warm meal than as an informational resource.  To him, this was strong evidence that he really was every bit as bestial as those doctors had hoped to make him.  But in the end, he settled on the middle course of avoiding people altogether.  Yes, there were times when they didn’t avoid him in return and it had taken effort not to indulge his animalistic urges to taste their flesh and blood, but he had managed, barely, to settle for simply killing those who attacked him.  Besides, if he had a lapse and wound up licking his claws afterward a time or two, there really wasn’t anyone who’d know.  There had been four men since he found his way out of the lab, and each seemed just as animalistic as Logan was.  He certainly had no regrets about killing them; his acquaintance with each of them had been brief, but no redeeming qualities had presented themselves.  Each of the men had been intent on doing Logan harm; each had seemed at least half out of his mind; each had not given up the fight until Logan had killed him.  If the world *had* been filled with different kinds of people and things before, there was certainly no evidence left of it for Logan to find now.  No evidence, that is, except the fifth person he was to encounter. Marie trudged determinedly up the hill, cursing God for putting so many damn mountains between her home in Mississippi and her destination of Alaska.  She’d seen the Rockies on a map before, in school, but somehow, the tiny pointed lines on paper had failed to give her any idea of the reality of these huge, jagged peaks.  She figured that the best she could do would be to follow what seemed to be the main road - after all, it should provide a path that people and cars could navigate over and through the mountains, no matter how big and impassible they might seem.  She wasn’t surprised that she saw fewer and fewer people as she went west.  The mutant-killing legacy virus that the humans had unleashed had boomeranged back at them months ago, leaving only a scant few humans and mutants worldwide.  Here, where the population had been sparse to begin with, she supposed that there was no one around but her for miles and miles.  As if on cue, a black plane roared over her head as soon as the thought crossed her mind.  She was so stunned that she didn’t try to wave it down or call attention to herself; she wasn’t sure that was the best course of action even if she *had* thought to do it, but she was still miffed at herself that she hadn’t reacted quickly enough to make it an option.  In any case, wherever it was going, the plane was in a hurry - it disappeared from her view in seconds.  Back in Westchester, Scott scanned the radar, carefully tracking the Blackbird’s progress.  He was very glad to have Hank going on this particular mission.  He routinely valued the man’s genius, but this time he was also glad for Hank’s strength and bulk.  If Jean’s hastily scrawled notes were any guide at all, they were about to approach one very dangerous mutant, and, since they didn’t have the personnel left alive for two-man missions anymore, Hank was an excellent choice to confront him.  Before she died, Jean had used Cerebro to locate as many mutants left alive as possible.  It had been Charles’ final wish that the work of the school go on after his death, a death which had come early on the long path of Legacy’s destruction.  It was, necessarily, a little different now - instead of schooling and hot meals, the mansion provided refuge from a world that was by turns violently chaotic and then eerily quiet with desolation.  One thing remained the same, though - it was providing a semblance of society, of community, for those who had nowhere else to go. “Approaching the target,” Hank reported over the radio.  “Roger,” Scott replied, and turned his thoughts away from Charles and Jean. He missed them terribly, of course, but there was more there than simple grief.  Irrationally, he resented Charles for abandoning them all so soon, for leaving them to face this mother of all crises alone.  And Charles’ final directive to continue the work of the school had been so important to Jean that she’d spent her dying days sequestered in Cerebro.  She’d even directed that the last vestiges of electricity and water be used to power the machine instead of to keep the dying students comfortable.  In a way, Scott hated Jean for that; in a way, it made him proud of her. Still, as conflicted as he felt about continuing Xavier’s work, it did give him a sense of purpose, and he *did* believe in the mission.  He latched on to that, and steadied himself to monitor Hank’s encounter with the Wolverine. Logan smelled the plane first - or rather, smelled something mechanical then heard the roar of the engines and looked up to discover it was a plane.  He then watched as it settled into a clearing to land.  Staying back in the thick trees, hidden, he waited for the occupants to reveal themselves.  His claws were already out, and he was primed for a fight.  The door unfolded to reveal a rather extraordinary-looking man.  He was blue, furry, fanged, and seriously overstuffing his odd leather get-up.  Logan sat back on his haunches, waiting to see if any others followed.  He knew that this man must be a mutant, like himself, but that didn’t bring down his guard.  In Logan’s estimation, it didn’t mean that he was any more or less likely to attack.  It only meant that the fight might hold a surprise or two - mutant powers weren’t always obvious and some dangerous things could still be hiding behind his unusual appearance.  The man strolled nonchalantly toward Logan.  His eyes didn’t come to rest on any spot in particular, but the path made by his footsteps in the fresh snow was a straight line, pointing right at Logan’s hiding place.  He didn’t know how the blue man did that - but he didn’t like it.  It meant that there *was* more to his mutancy than his appearance.  Logan got a strong clue when the man paused and sniffed the air.  Scent, Logan thought - he’s got enhanced senses, like me.  That was good.  It meant Logan knew what he was dealing with now.  It also meant he did not have to wait for the man to attack him - he could attack first.  He waited until the man was nearly at his hiding place before jumping at him with a snarl and extended claws.  Surprisingly, the bulky man dodged Logan with ease and then used his massive hands and feet to trip Logan and push him to the ground.  Logan growled, and leapt up, putting some distance between him and his latest prey.  But the blue man didn’t press his advantage; he put his hands up with palms facing Logan in an ‘I mean you no harm’ gesture.  Logan began circling him, looking for a good angle of attack.  “You must be Wolverine,” the man said, and Logan started - he hadn’t heard human voices for a long time.  Well - he hadn’t heard words in a long time; he’d heard screams more than a few times.  “I am Henry McCoy.  I am a mutant, like yourself.  I have come here from Westchester, New York, from Xavier’s School for the Gifted, to speak with you.  Do you understand?” Logan did - he understood perfectly, and he could’ve even answered the man, but he didn’t care to reveal anything about himself to this stranger, so he gave only a low growl in reply.  “I am here to speak with you,” the blue man repeated.  “Do you understand English?”  Logan still didn’t respond, he kept circling.  “I am here to take you to a place where you will be safe, a place with other mutants like yourself.  Would you like that?” Logan shook his head, giving the man the first indication that he’d understood at all, before he leapt at him again.  Again, the blue man dodged his attack, although one of the claws had cut the leather and drawn blood, and put Logan on the ground. “I am not here to harm you.  I am offering you a place to go, a safe place for mutants.  I will not force you to go, but I ask you to hear me out.” The only reply he got was a low growl.  The blue man looked a bit exasperated and rubbed at the cut on his arm.  "I believe that you understand what I am saying, you know.  Your non-verbals give quite a bit away.”  Logan’s eyes narrowed.  “Like that, for example.”  The blue man sighed, then reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving a small index card.  “This is the HAM radio frequency of the school.  We have power - electricity - running again and this radio is always attended.  I shall leave a battery-operated radio with you.  Dial it to the frequency written on the card if you wish to contact us, if you change your mind.”  He laid the card on the ground, and turned his back on Logan, trotting to the plane to retrieve the radio.  Logan contemplated attacking him again, and realized that he might have an advantage with the man’s back turned, but decided against it.  When he came back out with the small radio, Logan decided to take another chance.  “Don’t wanna go anywhere.  Huntin’s good here.”  If he’d surprised the blue man, he didn’t show it - much.  Nothing could be hidden in a person’s scent, and Logan knew that his expression didn’t match his reaction to the words.  “Have you lived here long?” “No.” “Where did you live before?” “Was caged.”  McCoy’s eyes sharpened at that.  Anger filtered into the man’s scent.  “Government,” the blue man muttered, as though it were the foulest imaginable curse word.  “I suppose there is no reason why the Canadian government should have conducted themselves any better than the American government.” “Don’t care who did it.  They’re all dead now.”  “Yes, I suppose so.”  The blue man put the radio on the ground and extended his hand.  He thought it best to start over a bit now that Wolverine was responding to him.  He wasn’t sure anything much of those first few words had registered.  “I am Henry McCoy.  My friends address me as Hank.”  Logan just stared at his extended hand blankly.  “What is your name?” he inquired, with all the politeness of someone at a high tea.  “Not what you called me.”  Hank nodded, apparently realizing that was all the answer he was going to receive.  “Would you like to come with me to New York?  There is a house, other mutants like yourself, fresh water and - ” “I like it here fine.”  “We could help you.” “Don’t need no help.”  Hank sighed.  “It is your choice, of course, but please reconsider.  We have a safe place back in New York, a community of other mutants.  There is companionship, and - and mutual support.” “Women?” Logan inquired.  He hadn’t run into one of those so far, and thought that maybe they were all gone now too.  “One,” Hank answered stiffly.  “But she is spoken for.”  He showed a little fang, and Logan got the picture - the woman back in New York was this man’s woman.  Hank’s serene smile was back in a moment.  Logan got the impression that, unlike himself, this man didn’t much use his animal qualities, but he did have them, and Logan had no doubt that he would use them to protect his mate.  “Other women out there?” “Some, I am sure,” Hank replied, in an easier tone.  “Perhaps we will find some.  We are always looking for mutants to assist.” “Hmph.”  If there were other women out there, maybe Logan could find a suitable one on his own.  Frankly, he didn’t trust himself not to go after this man’s mate - not because he was without honor in that matter; at least he didn’t think he was -  but because his biological urges were so strong and had been so long denied.  “So - are you inclined to come to New York, to join me on the plane ride back?”  Logan thought for a moment, then shook his head.  Hank nodded, accepting his answer.  “Use the radio if you change your mind.  It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  The men exchanged a nod, and Hank boarded the plane once more.  He was disappointed, of course, that the Wolverine had not wanted to join them.  But on the other hand, they already had as many mutants as they could handle; resources were stretched precariously thin. Not to mention that the Wolverine’s question about women gave him more than a little pause.  He did not want to spend every moment watching over Ororo.  Yes, Hank thought, as he guided the plane up and out of the clearing, perhaps it was better this way.  Meanwhile, Logan, too was reaffirming his choice to stay put; the plane’s departure had churned the air in the valley below and on those swirling winds, he’d detected a new scent - a definitively female scent.  He smiled, the first smile he could remember not brought on by a feral fit of carnage, and headed toward it. “Darn it,” Marie mused after the plane passed her over her head for a second time, again surprising her too much to permit any kind of reaction.  She’d decided on walking toward the direction it was headed, hoping for some sign of other people.  But now, it was headed back the way it had come and she was far from the road.  “Oh well - I guess it’s just you and me, trees.”  Talking to foliage, she reflected, was definitely not a sign of good mental health.  But then again, a lot of the things she’d done lately weren’t exactly signs of well-balanced sanity.  Here she was, trudging through the mountains, on her way to see Alaska, and why?  Some off-hand remark that her mother had made years ago, during a trip to the zoo - ‘Marie, the only place they got polar bears is Alaska, sugar, and you’re not gonna ever get there, not until the end of the world.’  She’d thought that it was pretty much the end of the world when her mutation hit and her parents had shut her up in the attic, treating her like an animal, but when Legacy hit, she got a hint of the true meaning of apocalypse.  What did it say about her sanity that among the first thoughts she’d had when she’d finally gotten out of that attic was that it was high time for Alaska and polar bears?  She knew she wasn’t coping with it well, she knew she was still in denial about a lot of things - her parents’ death, the downfall of civilization - but somehow it all struck her just a little funny.  Somehow, it had put her in a hyper, happy mood.  Maybe this was the only way she *could* cope - don’t think about it too much, keep moving, keep high spirits despite everything falling apart around her.  She shrugged, and kept heading back toward the road.  “Just you and me, trees,” she continued, “All alone here out in the wilderness.  I bet you’ve been here for years.  Just - just growing, or whatever it is you do.  Um, don’t you photosynthesize or something?  I remember that from science class - photosynthesis, chlorophyll - those were the big plant words I learned that year.  Yep, it doesn’t look like you’re really doing much, but you’re making oxygen and energy.”   She paused, huffing a bit.  “Energy - now I’m going to need a lot of that to make it back up the hill.  It was so much easier going downhill……”  “Usually is.” “Eeeep!”  Marie literally jumped at the sound of the voice.  Whirling toward it, her eyes found a wild-looking, hairy, bare-chested, barefoot man.  “Oh my……….”  She began backpedaling, putting some distance between her and the man.  “Grrrrr………..”  His eyes were burning with something Marie had never seen before and his nostrils flared.  “Grrr……..” “Um, you - you stay right there, OK?” she said, backing up a few more steps before coming to a halt. “No.” “No?  What do you mean, no?”  Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest. She’d been hoping, praying to find other people somewhere, but she hadn’t exactly pictured this kind of person.  Still, there was something about him that made her curious instead of frightened.  And he *was* staying put - he hadn’t made any kind of advance or attack despite his reply.  “What - what are you doing out here?” “Lookin’ for a woman.  Smelled you.”  “Look, I know I haven’t had a bath in a while, but these mountain lakes are really *cold*, and - ” “You smell good.” “Um, OK.”  She took a tentative step toward him.  “Are you all right?”  There was something…….off about him, but it seemed more in the ‘has been through a lot of crap’ than in the ‘dangerously unhinged maniac’ category.  Marie hoped her judgment was solid on that point as she awaited his reply.  He thought about it for a moment, then said, “I am now.” “OK………..”  He began pacing toward her, slowly.  “You remember when I said to stay right there?  Well, um, I think that would still be a pretty good idea.”  A few more steps, and something in his eyes changed.  “Wait - did you say - you said you were looking for a woman?”  He nodded, then the fire was back in his eyes.  “Oh, no - oh, no way!  You just stay right over there, mister!  I don’t even know you!” “Logan,” he muttered, closing to within about ten feet.  Marie seemed frozen to the spot.  “Nice to meet you, Logan,” she chattered nervously, putting her hands up in the same gesture Logan had seen McCoy perform before.  “You know, there’s something I should tell you before we, uh, have a date or whatever you have in mind.  I’m a mutant.” He growled at that, but much to Marie’s surprise, it wasn’t a disappointed or angry growl.  It seemed almost like one of……approval?  “I’m a mutant,” she repeated, hoping it might sink in this time around, “and my skin kills.  Touching my skin anywhere can kill.  So, um, whatever you have in mind, it’s really, really not a good idea.”  He was within arm’s reach of her now, and seemingly heedless of her warnings, he reached out for her.  She jumped away, barely eluding his grasp and putting only minimal distance between them.  He growled again, and this time it was definitely not in the ‘pleased’ category.  “Logan,” Marie stammered, swallowing hard, “Don’t do this.  I want to be your friend.  I don’t want to hurt you.”  That got her another growl.  “Logan, please,” she whispered, starting to get really scared now.  Something in her voice hit him hard; he didn’t like her frightened scent or her big, teary eyes.  He didn’t like the way she was looking at him.  As strong as his biological urges were, his aversion to seeing her like this was far more powerful.  He stopped, shook his head a bit, and took a few steps away from her.  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Whew.”  Marie relaxed a bit and she watched Logan hang his head and turn his back to her.  He was breathing hard, and she knew it had taken a lot of effort for him to pull back.  Maybe she was playing with fire here, but he *had* pulled back, and apologized, and there was something that really bothered her about the sad look on him now.  “I, um, my name is Marie.  I - I was hoping to find other people, and I meant what I said about being your friend.” “Don’t want any friends.” “Um………” “Need a woman.” “Ah.  Well.  I, um, I kind of can’t help you with that because of the skin thing.  I’d kill you.” “No you wouldn’t.  I heal.” “Sure, everybody heals, but not from the kind of thing my skin can do. I’m a mutant,” she repeated, a little frustration creeping in to her tone because he just didn’t seem to be getting that.  But in the next instant, she realized he got it only too well.  A soft, metallic ‘snikt’ heralded the appearance of what looked like knives coming out of both of his hands.  He slowly turned toward her, revealing that the metal was, in fact, attached to his body in some way.  After he was sure she’d gotten a good look, he retracted the claws and she watched in fascination as his skin re-knit itself over the wounds the metal had created.  In less than a second, the skin was whole again.  “I heal,” he repeated, this time sounding like the frustrated one.  “That’s amazing,” Marie whistled, unconsciously taking a few steps toward him.  “No, it ain’t,” he answered with a matter-of-fact sadness that made Marie’s heart clench.  He turned his back on her and headed back down the hill.  Marie watched him go, thinking hard about what she was considering. It could be dangerous, yes, especially since it seemed her skin might not be as effective a last-resort defense against this particular person, but on the other hand, he was the only half-decent person she’d seen in weeks and she couldn’t spend the rest of her life talking to trees.  “Hey, wait!” she yelled, rushing to catch up with him when he didn’t turn around at her call.  “Wait a second, wait!”  Logan kept trudging along, but Marie was soon falling into step beside him.  “Just stop a second, OK?” This time, he did as she asked and turned to look at her to boot.  “What?” “Maybe we could - maybe we could hang out together for a while. You know - stick together.  I - I don’t like being all alone, and I haven’t found anyone else - anyone good - so far.”  He just stared at her.  “I’m going to Alaska,” she explained, still breathless.  “I know - I know there’s probably not a lot of people there either, but I wanted to see the polar bears.”  She realized that made no sense to him, but she barreled along anyway.  “Have you ever wanted to go to Alaska?” “No.” “Where did you want to go?” “Nowhere.  Stayin’ here.” “There’s other places out there, you know - lots of other places besides, um, here.  In fact, I saw a plane today - I saw a plane flying overhead.” “Yeah.  Came to see me.” “Wait - what?  The plane came to see you?” “Yeah.” Marie rolled her eyes and stamped her foot.  “The plane came to see you!?  Tell me - tell me what happened!  Tell me everything!  Were there other people?  Where did they come from?  What did they want?  Did you talk to them?  What happened?” “Yeah, there was a blue guy.  He came from New York.  Westchester.  He wanted me to go there.  Yeah, I talked to him.” “New York?  I guess that makes sense - I guess there would still be some people in New York.” “Mutants, not people.  Guy was blue,” he repeated.  “Blue,” Marie echoed, grinning widely.  “Do you - do you think they’ll come back?” “No.”  She frowned at that, so he added, “But they left a radio.” “A radio!”  Marie was practically jumping up and down with glee, but Logan’s expression remained dour.  “Can you get them on the radio?” “Yeah.”  Logan watched as she gave in and actually jumped up and down.  “I’ll call if you want.  Maybe they’ll come getcha. Don’t have a lotta women there either.” Marie abruptly stopped jumping, and her smile fell.  “They were looking for women?” Logan shrugged. “Only got one and she’s spoken for.” “How many men are there?”  “Dunno.”  He continued heading downhill toward the clearing where he’d discarded the radio.  Marie bit her lower lip, and again thought quickly and hard.  “You know - maybe - maybe it’s not such a good idea to call them.”  Logan halted, and cast her a look over his shoulder.  “I, um, I’m not really looking to be anybody’s woman, um, per se.  I kind of like being my own, ah, person.  So if that’s what they’re looking for, maybe- maybe that’s not such a good idea.”  Logan grunted in a way that Marie couldn’t read, and resumed walking.  Marie frowned, and once again scrambled to catch up to him.  “So - we’re - we’re not calling them, right?” “You’d be better off there.” “You don’t know that.” “Seemed OK.  Blue guy didn’t fight me, even though I clawed him a little.  Only guy not to attack me so far.” “Well, OK, but I still don’t think - ” “You’ll be better off there,” he said firmly, and, Marie noted, with more than a little grumpiness.  Logan, for his part, was wondering just where all these protective instincts had come from all of a sudden.  Even though he couldn’t remember his life before, he was pretty sure that doing something like this for someone else was a first.  Why did he feel that way even though he hadn’t marked her, mated with her? “I really think I should make that decision, don’t you?” “No.” Marie sighed, and tried another tact.  “Wouldn’t you rather I stay here?  Don’t you want some company even if it’s not - even if I can’t - ” “You could,” Logan answered, stopping and turning on her so fast it made her flinch.  “Your skin ain’t gonna kill me.  But you’re afraid.  And I don’t trust myself not to - you’re just better off there.” “Look - ” Marie temporized, not meeting his gaze. There was more than a little truth in what he’d said - she *was* afraid, but there was also something telling her that he wouldn’t hurt her like that, not really, that he could trust himself not to even if that wasn’t what he thought.  “Aren’t there - isn’t there anywhere else you can take me?” Logan was silent for a few moments before answering. Marie thought he was probably doing some hard and fast thinking of his own, and when the words came out in a careful tone, she knew she’d been right.  “There’s nowhere else I can take you, but there’s places we can go.”  Marie caught the subtle difference.  Logan waited for her answer. “I guess you could take me there.  I guess you could call them, if you want.  Would you - would you come with me, to New York?”  She wasn’t quite ready to pass up the opportunity to find other people and she wasn’t quite ready to commit to staying with Logan - she knew enough to know that’s what he was really asking.  Having him come with her to test the waters in New York seemed the best option.  If the men there were a horde of rapacious thugs, maybe he’d get her out of there if she agreed to be his woman.  It wouldn’t be a great choice to have to make, but, if Logan would come with her, at least she’d *have* a choice. “No.” “Please?  What if they’re not, um, good?  What if they try to hurt me or something?  I know you said the blue guy didn’t seem like that but…..”  Marie fumbled for more words to explain herself, ones that wouldn’t make her feel like she was using him.  Which, it dawned on her, she kind of was. “Hmph.”  She had a point there.  He’d only met the one guy - if there were a lot of guys there and just two women……..well, maybe sending her there wasn’t such a bright idea after all.  He felt hot rage licking at him at the thought she might be hurt and instinctively, he wanted to be there to prevent it.  Besides - maybe, just maybe - if she didn’t like it there, she would reconsider being his woman……. “I’ll go with ya.” “You will?”  Her face lit up at that, all dark and uneasy thoughts banished.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”  She almost flung herself at him for a hug, but thought the better of it, for both their sakes.  “Welcome,” Logan mumbled, unable to hold her gaze.  He began the short hike back to where he’d left the radio, with Marie trailing behind. Logan never thought he’d miss one blue guy so damn much.  He’d radioed in and instead of McCoy coming to retrieve them, as Logan had expected, some hotshot pilot, probably only a couple of years older than the girl, had come to pick them up.  The sledgehammer-subtle change in flyboy’s scent when he caught sight of the girl didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.  He’d introduced himself as ‘Scott,’ but in Logan’s mind, he’d be forever consigned to ‘dickhead.’  The only saving grace was that the girl didn’t seem too impressed with him.  When they’d made introductions, she’d given her name as ‘Rogue’ - she’d told Logan her real name, Marie.  She also didn’t let on that Logan had told her his real name - she picked up on the fact that Scott only called him ‘Wolverine’ and followed suit.  “Ever seen the Great Lakes?” Scott queried, clearly directing the question to Marie.  “We’re about to fly over them now.” “Really?” she replied politely.  “I saw Lake Michigan on the way up.” “Where do you come from, Rogue?  Somewhere down south, I’m guessing, judging by that accent.” She smiled, a genuine one this time, and Logan fought back a growl.  “Mississippi.” “I’ve never been there - what’s it like?” “Hot,” Marie drawled, infusing her speech with a little extra accent on purpose.  “Humid.  Lots of farmland, lots of rural country.” “Sounds nice.”  Marie’s eyebrows crinkled at that and she shot Logan a look.  “Well, sure - if you like living in a sauna, that is.” Scott laughed and threw Rogue a look.  “I like things hot.  In fact, red is my favorite - ”  He abruptly cut himself off, and now Marie was shooting Logan a confused look.  “Ahem.  Sorry.  Bad memories.  My, ah, my wife died in the plague.” “I’m sorry,” Marie said softly.  “Me too,” Scott answered honestly.  He really did miss Jean.  Having someone there as a companion, a lover, a partner in leading the team and school - he missed all of that sorely.  He hoped he’d find it again one day, and it wasn’t lost on him that the young girl sitting beside him might be a possible place to find those things, but the memory of Jean was weighing heavily on him all of a sudden.  “Anyway - Mississippi.  I bet it’s lovely country.  But what were you doing all the way up north, then?” “Trying to get to Alaska and see the polar bears.  I’d always wanted to, ever since I was a kid, and when everything went kerflooey……I don’t know, it just kind of made sense.” “You didn’t have to go all the way to Alaska,” Scott pointed out, in the same tone he used to lecture classes full of students with, “Hudson’s Bay was closer to you in Mississippi and you can see polar bears on the ice just fine there.”  Marie simply shrugged and sat back in her seat.  Logan caught the beginnings of a frown playing on her lips.  When she didn’t say anything, Scott asked, “Do you know where Hudson’s Bay is?” “Yes,” Marie answered succinctly.  “It’s hundreds of miles closer to Mississippi than Alaska.  Alaska - I’m originally from there, and I know it’s a heck of a long way out there.”  Marie gave a wan nod.  Scott couldn’t figure out what had stopped the conversation and decided to just change subjects.  “Have you ever been to New York?” “No.  Wolverine -”  Marie caught a bit on the still-unfamiliar name. “- have you ever been to New York?” “No.”  Logan shifted in his seat a bit.  He didn’t remember, really, but he didn’t think he ever had.  “You know what I always wanted to do in New York?” Marie queried, scooting around so that both Logan, who was behind her, and Scott were both in her line of sight.  “I always wanted to go see the Rockettes.  I always thought they were so neat when I was a kid.  Plus, we had a second cousin that ran away to New York in the eighties and wound up as a Rockette.  Kind of a family thing, you know.” “I’m sorry you’ll miss seeing them,” Scott put in.  “What about the Statue of Liberty?  That’s still standing - have you ever wanted to go there?” “No,” Marie answered slowly, with a bemused tone.  “You know, for some reason, I’ve just never liked it.” “But it’s a landmark, a beacon for freedom, a part of history.” “I know,” Marie shrugged, “I just never liked it myself.”  Turning a little more to face Logan squarely, she asked, “Is there anything you wanted to do in New York?” “No.” “There’s a lot of stuff there.  Some of it might be interesting.  Maybe the Museum of Modern Art - ” “The city is dangerous, Rogue,” Scott interrupted.  “The survivors of an outlaw band of mutants that used to call themselves the Brotherhood - they’ve been hiding in the city ever since Legacy hit.  They keep to themselves, mostly, but they have attacked us on occasion when we’ve ventured into the city.  It’s best for you to stay in Westchester, where it’s safe.” “Maybe Wolverine could go with me……..” “It’s best if you just stay on the grounds, Rogue.”  Marie exchanged a look with Logan, and, much to her disappointment, his expression seemed to indicate that he agreed with Scott - she should stay where it was the safest.  “There’s a lot to do at the school,” Scott continued, “I’m sure you won’t be bored.” “Hmph.”  Marie slumped back in her chair.  Logan leaned forward, and tapped her on the shoulder.  “You OK?” “Yeah, just - ”  Her eyes glanced quickly over at Scott, who was doing a very poor job of pretending he wasn’t listening in.  “Just - it’s a new place, you know?  I’m really glad you’re coming with me.”  She smiled and briefly grasped his hand with her gloved one.  “Yeah,” Logan said, a little bewildered.  He sat back in his seat, and waited for the flight to be over.  Maybe after they got to this place, he could get Marie alone and find out what she was really thinking.  “So - you like that guy?” Logan asked, after finally having gotten Marie to himself for a few minutes.  She’d been introduced to all the men at the school, and the one woman Hank had mentioned - a very pregnant black woman with striking white hair.  McCoy hadn’t been kidding when he’d said she was already spoken for.  But Marie hadn’t shown much reaction to the men she’d met, and Logan sensed a low-level unease in her during the introductions.  She had, however, smelled a little more relaxed when Scott had taken them aside and given them a tour of the school.  Logan wondered if she wanted that - being the leader’s woman - or if she even understood that’s what might be offered to her.  “Who?  Scott?” “Yeah.” Marie shrugged.  “He seems nice.  Nicer than the rest of those guys.  They all looked at me like - like I was on the menu, like I was some kind of tasty treat.  That French guy kept looking at my chest.”  She fixed Logan with a look.  “You’d think that the killer skin would put them off.” “Not if they haven’t seen a woman in a while.” “That’s just it - I’m some woman to them, that’s all.  I’m just a source of - you know……..”  He did know.  He’d thought of her that way himself.  The only difference was that he’d thought of her in other ways too, and now, despite himself, he thought of her as Marie, not a woman, not his woman.  In just a short time, less than a day, he thought of her as a person in her own right.  She wasn’t a warm meal, she wasn’t prey, she wasn’t just a potential mate - now, she was Marie who wanted to go to Alaska to see polar bears and who didn’t like the Statue of Liberty but who did like sticking the bottom of her feet close to the campfire.  “Scott said you didn’t hafta pick one if you didn’t wanna.”  He’d looked unbelievably affronted when Logan had asked him the question on the tour, as though such a thing had never crossed his mind and never would.  But the truth was that Marie *did* have to choose someone - Scott was just too polite to put it front and center.  The reality of the situation was that no woman could go unmated in a sea of similarly unattached men, not anymore, not in this world.  Maybe somewhere on the other side of the world there was a bunch of women with a shortage of eligible men, but here and, at least for now, Marie was outnumbered sixteen to one.  That couldn’t last, and Logan knew it.  It would be against every law of nature to think otherwise, and laws of nature generally won out over laws of etiquette, or politeness, or whatever had prompted Scott to deny the very existence of the problem.  “I kind of think that’s crap.”  Marie confided, nervousness creeping into her scent.  “It’ll just get too weird if I stay here and don’t pick eventually.  If - if it comes down to it, I’m going to pick you, OK?” “I ain’t stayin’ here too long, Marie, either way.”  If she wound up with him, either out of choice or necessity, he’d want to get her away from here and have her all to himself.  If she didn’t choose him, he’d probably shred whoever she had chosen and then he’d have to kill them all or go.  “OK.  I’m really glad you came with me,” she offered.  “I know you kind of didn’t want to, and I appreciate it.”  Logan gave her a gruff nod.  “I’m gonna go out and hunt some food.” “Scott said there’d be dinner at six.” “He said it’d be oatmeal.  I’m huntin’.”  Marie smiled at that, big.  “What?” “I should’ve guessed that you’re not a vegetarian.”  “I eat vegetables,” Logan shot back, with a little indignant humor in his voice.  It felt odd, but he supposed it was one of those human things he’d lost, one of the human things Marie brought out in him.  “With fresh meat.”  He favored her with an intentionally toothy feral grin. She laughed outright at that, and he liked the way her eyes sparkled when she did.  But after a beat she turned serious.  “Logan - if we - if you decide not to stay here too long, just don’t leave without me, OK?  I’m not sure about all this and I - I’m sorry I kind of dragged you into this, but don’t leave without me.” “OK.”  Marie nodded and smiled a little.  “Marie - you know if you *do* stay here, you can get the top spot in the pack.”  She looked confused for a moment, but then it clicked.  “If I pick Scott.” “Yeah.” “I……….”  Her mind flipped through the possibilities - a roof over her head, consistent meals, company - other people, even some electricity and running water.  Those were all things that were incredibly attractive all on their own, but there were also tradeoffs, and she was becoming increasingly aware of those.  Scott was very attractive, but for some reason, she just didn’t quite feel attracted *to* him, not that way.  And he seemed like the kind of man that would have certain expectations of her, ones that went far beyond sexual ones.  They would quite probably include *not* going off on half-cocked trips to see polar bears or talking to foliage when she got bored.  “I’m not really a top-of-the-pack kind of gal.” “You ain’t really a lone wolf either.” Marie considered that too.  “I guess not.”  Logan nodded.  “I’m goin’ huntin’.  I’ll be back.” Logan prowled the grounds, following the scent trail of some deer.  There were at least three, but he only needed one for his meal - he wasn’t planning on sharing.  Well, not with anyone but Marie.  Maybe she’d like a little steak with her oatmeal.  In any case, it would feel good to kill something, to hunt, to release some of his aggression.  The animal in him had been very controlled ever since he’d fought him back around Marie that first time, and he was itching to be let out.  After just a few minutes, he’d found his deer - a big buck, strong and in his prime. It would be almost a shame to bring him down, really.  Logan deftly approached the animal, waiting until he was ready to spring upon it to unleash the claws.  But just as he was crouching for the final assault on his prey, he heard a faint echo coming through the forest - an echo of Marie’s voice, screaming.  The claws popped, and he reversed position with superhuman agility.  In the next moment, he was sprinting towards the mansion, full speed.  As he closed to within a hundred yards of the edge of the woods and the beginning of the once well-manicured lawn and grounds, he began to smell her more strongly.  She wasn’t in the house, she was out here, and close.  He redoubled his pace and finally came upon her.  One of the men from the mansion - the one he remembered introducing himself as Toad - was on top of her, convulsing.  “Marie!”  She didn’t turn toward him, and he willed his body to somehow run faster.  From here, he could see that the man had wrapped something around her throat.  Whatever it was, his claws would cut through it.  “Aaaarrrrrghhhh!”  He pounced on them, slashing at the thick, mucous-y membrane that was strangling Marie and anything else that he could identify as not-Marie in his fury.  He watched as Toad’s tongue and flesh fell away beneath his claws and he quickly kicked Toad’s now-dead body away from Marie.  She was still screaming.  “Marie!” he yelled again, reaching out to shake her.  He immediately regretted that mistake - her eyes flew wide open and he felt a searing pain shoot through him.  Then, without warning, the pain ratcheted up several notches and he felt like he was being sucked into her, like she was eating him alive, but somehow that was happening from the inside out.  Frantic, he looked down at his hands, and finally saw the cause of the problem - Marie’s shirt had been ripped, and part of his fingertip was touching about a centimeter of her bare skin.  Distantly, as he began to feel the pain edged out by a smothering blackness, he realized she might’ve been right.  Her skin might kill even him.  “He’s in quarantine for a reason.  He killed Toad.”  Marie listened to Scott repeat his rationale for keeping Logan confined to the medlab for the sixth or seventh time that day.  “He killed Toad because Toad attacked me.  He was strangling me.”  She tried to keep her tone even.  “And if he’d lived, we would’ve tried him and exiled him from the mansion when he was found guilty, Rogue.  I’m not saying what Toad did was right, far from it.  But it’s not up to Wolverine to be judge, jury, and executioner.”  He wasn’t even sure that the man had the rudimentary skills needed to really work out the complex issues that Toad’s transgression had brought about.  He seemed little more than an animal to Scott. “I’m not sorry he was,” Rogue muttered.  “I don’t blame you for feeling that way.”  In fact, there was a part of Scott that envied the kind of clarity that anger and revenge brought.  But he had learned well from Charles that those were not qualities by which you can run a community.  There had to be justice and fairness, even for those who break the rules of the community.  “But that doesn’t make what Wolverine did all right.” “Scott,” Marie began softly.  “He was probably dead before Wolverine even got to him.  My skin, it’s lethal.”  “Yes,” Scott allowed, fidgeting a little.  Marie frowned.  He had obviously been more than a little freaked out by seeing her skin in action.  Sardonically, she thought to herself that that spot at the top of the pack was likely no longer available.  “But you didn’t mean to hurt him - Toad touched you.  He touched your bare skin and he wouldn’t let go.”  Marie kept her knee-jerk response to herself - the truth was that she’d have used her powers to kill him even if he hadn’t been unable to unwind his tongue from her.  “Can I go in and see Wolverine?” “Sure.  Just be careful.  Hank has him in restraints, just in case.”  Marie huffed and gave Scott a look.  “We’ve been over this, Rogue.” “He doesn’t need to be in restraints.  He’s not going to attack anyone, and he’s going to hate waking up that way.”  She’d gotten enough of his memories of the lab to know that ‘hate’ would be a mild description of his feelings upon waking up to being tied down and in a medical facility.  “Please - I’ll stay with him.  You’ve seen my skin, you’ve seen what it can do, even to him.  I can stop him if he gets out of control.” “It’s not your job to do that,” Scott answered softly.  “You’ve already had a hard enough time.”  His eyes fell on the white streak in her hair, the one that had unnaturally developed when she was touching Wolverine.  She wouldn’t say much about that part of it, about what touching him had felt like, but Scott thought the white streak in her hair and the way she cried for hours afterward spoke volumes.  Whatever had happened in that touch hadn’t been any more pleasant for Rogue than it had been for the still-unconscious Wolverine.  “Let us take care of that, Rogue.” “I’d rather stay with him myself.  I know what I’m doing, Scott.”  She was putting as much righteous Southern Belle in her voice as she could muster.  Finally, Scott relented.  “OK.  But Hank will stay too, just in case.”  “Thanks,” she smiled, and headed in to see Logan.   Logan awoke to a soft, honeyed voice.  “………..and I guess I’m saying I’m sorry for being kind of a brat.  For taking advantage of you, of your interest in me, to get you to come here with me like some kind of insurance policy.  I wasn’t treating you very nicely, but I’m going to not be that way from here on out, I want you to know.  But most of all, I’m so sorry that I hurt you.” “Mph.” “Logan?” “Mrrree?”  Why weren’t his vocal cords cooperating?  And why did he feel so sluggish?  He hadn’t felt this way since he’d been - “Grrrr…….” “It’s OK, it’s OK.  You’re in the medlab, in Westchester, you’re - you’re not tied down - well, not really.  You’re safe.  No doctors.  Nothing like that.  Just me.  And Hank, outside.”  Logan willed his eyes to open and focus.  Marie was leaning over him, smiling a little but with wet red eyes.  That didn’t make sense.  “Marie?”  There - at least he was talking better.  “I’m here.” “What happened?” “You saved my life.  He was - Toad was strangling me.  He didn’t take the warning Scott gave them all about my skin seriously.  He thought Scott was bluffing, trying to scare them off of - of trying anything.  He thought if he strangled me until I was unconscious, it would turn off, but - but then he couldn’t get loose and….”  She broke off, and tears came, and the red eyes suddenly made sense to Logan.  “What I mean is,” she struggled out, “Thanks for saving my life.” “Welcome,” he mumbled, flailing a hand out for her.  It landed on her thigh, and she stared at it for a long time before speaking.  “Logan - do you remember touching me?” “Yeah.”  He still felt sluggish, but that memory was crystal clear.  God, how it had hurt……… “Be careful around my skin, OK?  I think I - ”  She paused and leaned close to him, then continued in a whisper.  “I think I got some of your powers for good.  I heal - I cut myself shaving this morning and I couldn’t believe what I saw - my knee, it healed right over, just like that.  And I - well, my arms were hurting and my knuckles were so *itchy* and then I just felt like doing this - ”  She flexed her hands and the first joints of three bone claws eased out of her left-hand knuckles, showing themselves just for a moment before retreating back into her body.  “I think yours must’ve been bone, before.” “Before,” Logan repeated, in a solemn tone.  “Before,” Marie affirmed.  “I got some of your memories.  I saw……things.”  Logan grimaced.  “Honestly, they scared the crap out of me.  But I saw a lot of good things in there too.” “Good things?  From before?” “I can’t really see much before the lab, I just….I can feel something back there, but I can’t get to it.  I meant good things from lately.” “Hmph.”  Logan raised his head up a bit and looked down at his body.  He was naked, half-way covered by a sheet, and he took some solace from the fact that the bare skin he could see wasn’t mapped out in marker, laid out in a pattern that was invariably the precursor to horrific anesthesia-free surgery.  But then he saw the restraints at his wrist and ankles and he growled.  “They’re cut,” Marie whispered, leaning close to his ear.  “I used my - our claws.  You’re not really tied down.” “Gotta get ‘em off,” Logan panted, not much appeased by Marie’s reassurances.  “Well, OK, but that’ll make Hank rush in here and - ” “Wolverine?” The blue doctor’s head peered into the doorway, soon followed by the rest of his body.  “Is everything all right?”  The question was clearly addressed to both occupants of the room.  “Um, I’m fine,” Marie ventured.  “And Wolverine’s awake.  He seems, ah, good.” “Wolverine?” “Fine,” Logan grunted before leaping off the bed.  The sheet stubbornly stayed with the cot, and Logan was stark naked, standing in the middle of the medlab.  “All right,” Hank answered slowly, taking another glance at Marie, who gave him a reassuring smile.  “I shall get you some pants.”  Logan grunted again and cracked his neck.  Hank disappeared, and Marie tried to keep her eyes on the floor.  After a few moments, Logan noticed her silence and looked over at her.  “What happened to your hair?” She quirked her lips into a half-smile.  “I don’t really know.  Just - something happened when I was touching you, when I saw what they did to you.  I - I could feel some of it like I *was* you.  It was pretty awful.” “Sorry.”  Now it was Logan who was studying the floor. “It’s not your fault.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  It was just - scary.  Really scary.  I’m sorry that you went through that.  I’m glad you’re OK now.”  Logan didn’t really know how to respond to that, but he did chance a look up at her.  She met his eyes, but quickly blushed.  “Everything will be just peachy as soon as we get you some pants.” “Don’t like whatcha see?”  It was an honest question.  “Opposite problem,” Marie mumbled, turning downright crimson.  “Here we go,” Hank interrupted, carrying over a pair of mansion-issue sweats to Logan’s cot.  “You seem to be doing quite well, but I would like to examine you to be certain that - ” “No,” Logan answered sharply.  “Ah - very well, then.”  Hank knew the man’s powers and didn’t feel the need to press the point.  “I shall be in the offices if you need me.” “Thanks, Hank,” Marie called as he left.  He nodded his response and once again disappeared from view.  “So - um, you never did get your fabulous oatmeal dinner.  Are you hungry?” Logan considered her question and what her scent was telling him as he pulled on the sweats.  “Yeah.  Never did get my fresh meat either.  Wanna go huntin’ with me?” Marie slowly raised her eyes to meet his.  There was a smile in them that matched the one on her lips.  She nodded, and they set out for the woods together. Scott headed for the control room just after his briefing with Hank.  While he wasn’t happy to hear that Logan was up and on the loose, he wasn’t sure that he was willing to risk fighting the man just to get him to stay put inside the mansion.  Hank’s assessment that Wolverine was unlikely to attack again unless provoked did give him some measure of comfort with that decision.  Still, a little remote monitoring using the mansion’s exterior cameras couldn’t hurt.  Seating himself behind the main closed-circuit observation screens and turning on the equipment, Scott sipped his coffee and settled in for an afternoon of black and white cinema starring his two newest residents.  Judging by the smiles and easy rapport he saw between them as they moved through the grounds, apparently working together (or was Wolverine teaching Rogue?) to track some wild deer, they were getting along well despite whatever had happened in that touch between them.  He was glad to see Rogue bouncing back a little, even if it was due to the company of a man he was still very unsure of.  He watched as they stopped on a small rise just above their prey.  Wolverine’s claws came out, slowly, and Rogue crouched low on the ground.  Scott grimaced.  He didn’t exactly want to watch what would happen next.  He liked deer much better as part of the mansion’s bucolic scenery than as an entree, and frankly, he still had a few traumatic childhood memories about that first time he saw Bambi.  Just as Rogue sprang and Logan followed a split-second later, he switched the channel to show another camera view.  He blinked, astonished by what he saw.  For a moment, he thought he’d somehow picked up a broadcast TV station.  There were people, lots of them, in the camera’s view.  They were slowly trudging up toward the main gate of the mansion, right there, in broad daylight.  There had to be at least twenty.  Scott pressed the comm button and hailed Hank in his office.  “Hank, code red.  We’ve got - ”  He abruptly stopped and leaned in for a better view as the group came to a halt, apparently at the direction of its leader, a petite brunette.  She faced the camera just long enough for Scott to get a tease of her features, and then she turned back toward her assembled followers.  “Scott?” “Ah….” “Scott?  Did you say a code red?” “Yes,” Scott replied slowly as he watched the young woman address the group.  Her shoulders were squared, and her back was straight.  He sensed power in her, despite her petite frame.  “Yes, I did.  We’ve got company at the front gates.” “Hostile?” “I sure as hell hope not,” Scott replied, thinking first of the young woman and then of the number gathered.  “There are about twenty of them.  They’re about fifty yards from the gate.  It looks like - yeah, their leader’s coming up to the entrance.” “Do you recognize the leader?  Is it a member of the brotherhood?” “No.  It’s a young girl - maybe eighteen or nineteen.  She’s short, with brown hair and good features.  Very good features.  Very pretty.”  Scott caught himself a bit, then added, “She’s heading straight for the intercom at the gate.”  “Hmm,” Hank mused on the other end.  “Do you wish me to alert the others, to make preparations for defense of the mansion?” “You’d better, just in case,” Scott replied reluctantly.  “And Rogue and Wolverine?”  Scott didn’t answer for a moment, absorbed by the sight of the young leader’s approach.  She strode confidently toward the gates, her pace not wavering.  After a moment, Scott replied, “Leave them be.  They’re at the other end of the grounds.  Let’s just see how this plays out.” “Roger that,” Hank responded, before signing off.  Kitty kept going toward the gates, trying to still her pounding heart and steady her nerves.  This was it - Xavier’s, the place they’d heard in rumor and legend, the place she’d only been half-convinced really existed when she’d left her Illinois home.  But here it was, rising out of suburban New York like some oasis of civility in a world gone mad.  She’d carefully led her people through the suburbs, around the city, taking the circuitous route for safety’s sake.  She had a bad feeling about what kind of people might have elected to stay in a city full of rotting corpses and she’d just as soon not find out if her hunches were correct.  The responsibility for the people she’d picked up along the way, both human and mutant, weighed heavily upon her.  As she came closer, she noticed the security camera move.  It wasn’t pre-programmed, she thought, since it had moved in such a way as to give the viewer a better look at her as she approached.  Deciding that whatever was in that mansion - whether it be the answer to her every prayer or more horrifying than her worst nightmares - was best faced head-on, she looked directly into the camera and made her gaze hard and unblinking.  She knew she didn’t present a physically intimidating package, but she also knew that, in this world, almost no one trusted appearances.  Before she could come up next to the intercom, she heard a voice crackle through it.  “This is Cyclops, leader of the X-Men.  State your business here, please.” Without hesitation, and with a very good imitation of Cyclops’ all-business tone, Kitty replied, “I am Shadowcat, leader of - ”  That presented a problem.  They hadn’t exactly given themselves a name.  They hadn’t needed one.  “Leader of the Society of Allied Peoples.”  There, that sounded sufficiently impressive.  And it didn’t reveal whether she was human or mutant.  After all, maybe this guy really was an X-Man, maybe he wasn’t.  Now, on to part two of his statement.  “My business here concerns Charles Xavier.  I would like to speak with him personally.” “That won’t be possible,” Cyclops answered, with just a hint of sadness in his voice.  “He passed away in the first wave of Legacy.” “Oh.”  Kitty frowned, and her shoulders slumped.  “I am leading the X-Men in his stead.  Perhaps you could discuss your business with me.”  Kitty considered the offer for a moment.  It could be a trap.  But something about the voice on the other end sounded sincere.  And she was so tired of searching.  She’d held herself, and her people, together with the hope of reaching this place.  She had to at least see what was awaiting her; she had to at least know for sure.  “Very well,” she replied, with more confidence than she felt.  The gates opened, and she walked inside, keeping that same strong, self-assured bearing. “Mebbe you need some backup.  Perhaps she is unfriendly, non?” Remy queried as Scott clipped through the foyer towards the front door.  “I think you’re hoping she’s more than friendly,” he sniped as he bypassed the Cajun.  “Didn’t Toad losing his tongue and most of his vital organs teach you anything?” “Oui,” Remy acknowledged, following along.  “It taught me not to go messin’ wit lil’ girls protected by deadly skin and hairy beast-men wit’ claws on toppa all dat.  No matter how nice de rack on dat lil’ girl might be.  But dis one here, it looks like it be jus’ her.  Nothin’ hairy out dere.”  “Down, Remy.”  Remy frowned and stopped in his tracks; he knew Scott was serious.   He would have to just wait and see what this new arrival did, and whether she liked her red eyes behind a visor or with a little black in them.  Scott worked to calm himself as he waited by the door for Shadowcat’s knock.  Remy’s comments had riled him up, more so than was really called for.  Why had he had such a strong reaction to Remy’s usual flirty patois?  He didn’t have much time to ponder that - the knock from the other side came momentarily.  “Hello,” Scott greeted, putting on a firm-yet-welcoming face as he opened the door.  His first thought was that she seemed somehow smaller, and more fragile, than the cameras had made her out to be.  And much more beautiful.  But when she opened her mouth to speak, he saw the steel in her again.  “Hello.  Thank you for seeing me.  I’m Shadowcat.  May I come in?” “Please do.”  Scott stepped aside to permit her entry, smiling politely as he did.  “We can talk in the library, or in one of the conference rooms if you like.”  He could almost see the wheels turning in her head, and he hoped that she was correctly interpreting it as the good faith gesture it was - if she could pick the spot, she could be a little more assured that he didn’t mean to trap her or set her up.  “In the library,” she replied, returning his cordial smile and seating herself on the large sofa by the fire.  “Very well.”  Scott took up a seat opposite hers, and she had to clear her throat and fidget a little before he realized he was just sitting there, staring and not saying anything.  “How can we be of service to you?” “Can you tell me,” she began casually, “whether, by any chance, this place still functions as a school?” “Yes, of course,” Scott answered.  “We aren’t functioning as a school at the moment due to the low number of students and staff.  However, we are taking in all mutants, serving as a haven and base of sorts for mutants needing assistance.”  He let that sink in a moment and then leaned forward.  “Are you a mutant, Shadowcat?” “Yes.”  Scott couldn’t suppress a smile at that - she’d answered his question, but only that.  He still had no idea what her powers might be.  That name - it didn’t give away much, not like ‘Iceman’ or ‘Pyro.’ “I’m a mutant too.  In fact, I’m called Cyclops because I can produce an optic blast.”  “Very interesting,” she smiled politely, still not giving away any of her own secrets.  “Are you all alone?  Have you been traveling far?” “I came from Illinois, near Chicago,” she replied, her body language changing a little, relaxing just minutely.  “It’s definitely a long trip.” “And a dangerous one,” Scott rejoined.  “You must have formidable powers to make it this far on your own.”  All he got was another mysterious smile - not the hoped-for information on her ‘gifts’ or admission that there were more with her.  He let silence hang in the air between them for several long moments, letting it become uncomfortable, letting her stew a bit.  She still wasn’t talking.  “Well - we’re glad you made it here.” “Do you have any humans here?”  “No,” Scott answered quickly.  He was surprised when he got a disappointed frown, not the expected smile and relieved sigh.  “I thought that, in the past, this school functioned as a - an example of human-mutant harmony.  I thought that’s what the Professor believed in, what he taught.”  “It was.”  Scott didn’t elaborate.  It was her turn to twist in the wind a bit.  He needed to know what was behind that question.  Did she have humans with her?  Was she working for the humans, hoping to get them an ‘in’ with the school?  Were they simply hoping she’d get them through the door in case he’d required some proof or test of her mutant status? “And now?”  Scott’s good humor was gone.  He didn’t like playing games.  It was time for this woman to put her cards on the table.  “Now I call the shots.  What do you want, Shadowcat?  What are you looking for here?” Her eyes became guarded at his tone and he wondered if he’d made a mistake, miscalculated how to handle her.  “I was hoping to find that what Xavier had built here still remained.  But I suppose that things have changed now.” She rose to go, and flinched when Scott met her and stopped her with a hand on her arm.  “Shadowcat,” he began, in an intentionally softer tone.  “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here.  I meant what I said, this is a place that welcomes mutants and gives them - ” “Just mutants?” “Why does that matter to you?” She hesitated, and when she looked up at him, her eyes were cold.  “Let go of my arm.”  Chagrined, Scott did as she asked and took a step back from her.  “I’ll be going now.” “It’s a long way back to Illinois,” he called to her retreating back.  She didn’t answer and by the time she’d gotten to the door and swung it open, he’d caught up.  He swung it shut again and kept his hand on the door, giving her a small circle of space, but only that.  He really didn’t want her to leave, and he was surprised by just how strong that pang of desire was.  He wasn’t surprised, though, when she kept her back to him.  “Listen - I do think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.  We’re not at war with the humans.  But we can’t have them here - it causes too much disruption.  There’s too much bad blood now.  But we’re not going to go out of our way to hurt them.” “So you’ve given up then?” “What?” “You’ve given up.”  She turned to face him and he marveled at how fiery she looked - she wasn’t the calm, contained leader now.  “You’ve let Professor Xavier’s dream die.” Scott bristled at the words.  “You never even knew the man.”  He wasn’t sure why those words in particular had come out.  “Look - it’s - it’s harder than you think.” “Harder than keeping the peace on a cross-country trek?  I don’t think so.”  She shoved his hand aside and flung the door open.  She had stomped halfway down the drive before Scott snapped out of his shock to chase after her.  “Wait!  Wait!  You - you made it here from Illinois with - with a mixed group, with humans?”  “Yep,” she responded and kept walking.  Not in the direction of her gathered people, Scott realized.  He couldn’t help admiring her for that - she’d never shown a second of indecision in carrying out her misdirection.  “And I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of ‘us versus them.’  All that kind of thinking has gotten us is a holocaust, a dead world.  Excuse me if I’ve had my fill of it.” His mouth was hanging open, but his legs were still following her.  He just couldn’t absorb it - this young, small girl had led a bunch of humans and mutants across hundreds of miles, facing danger, hunger, exposure - it was too much for Scott to process at first.  “Hey - wait!” “What for?  I’ve seen what I came here to find out.” “I don’t think you have.  Shadowcat, wait!”  She’d upped her pace, and it was getting hard to keep up without breaking into a run.  “Or what?  You’ll use that optic blast to try to convince me to see the error of my species-mixing ways?  Sure, give it a try, Cyclops.” “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong.  We’re not like that.”  He huffed and debated whether a light jog might just be easier.  “We’re not prejudiced.” “Except in that no-humans-allowed kind of way.  Yeah, you’re real open-minded.” “Hey!”  He finally caught her and whirled her around by her arm - again.  “I swear, if you touch me one more time - Cyclops or Minotaur or whatever your name is - you’ll regret it.”  Somehow, Scott knew she wasn’t referring to using her powers on him, whatever they may be. This tiny girl was planning on kicking his ass using her brains or her physical prowess or both.  Strangely, Scott kind of liked her for that.  “Well?” “These humans you have with you - ” “I’m not telling you where or how many - ” “Don’t bother.  We saw you on the security cameras.  There’s a hundred yard perimeter.”  He watched as her face flamed but she got herself quickly under control.  “The humans with you - how many are women?” “You sick bastard!” “No!  No!  Not like that!”  Scott mentally kicked himself for his lack of tact.  “That didn’t come out right!  I’m not asking because - I just want to know because if they’re women or if there are a lot of women in the group, I might be able to convince my men to go along with taking them in.”  Her eyes were still narrow, but she hadn’t spat out any other epithets, so he barreled along.  “I meant what I said - there’s still a lot of bad blood toward the humans.  But I heard what you said, and you’re right.  The Professor - he wouldn’t want to build a new world based on prejudices.  His dream still means a lot to me, it meant a lot to him, and - and a lot of people, and I *don’t* want to let it die.”  He could see that she was still quite put off, but there was a glimmer in there - something that told him she was considering it.  “Look - I’m not really as much of a jerk as you think.”  That brought a raised eyebrow and a smirk.  “OK, maybe I am.  But maybe we can work something out.  We need - we can use more people, more women in particular would be welcome.  But we won’t - we’re a civil community.  They won’t be harmed or pushed into anything, not anything, you have my word.”  Shadowcat was silent for several long moments, and he let her have the time to think.  “All right.  All right.  I’ll take you at your word - for now.  There are twenty-two of us.  Nine are humans, seven of those are women and two are their male children.” Scott nodded slowly.  “I think - I think that could work.  I think I could sell that to the men.  How many women among the others?” “Me, and five others.” Scott smiled, and extended his hand.  “Then let’s start over, OK?  I’m Scott.  I’m also called Cyclops, leader of the X-Men.  It is our mission to assist mutants in need and to promote peaceful human-mutant relations, to carry out Professor Xavier’s dream.” For the first time, Shadowcat let out an unabashed smile.  Scott thought it suited her.  “I’m Kitty, also called Shadowcat.  I’m leader of a bunch of people standing in your peach grove.  Thanks for having us.”  She shook, once, firmly, then set off in the direction of her people.  Scott followed, laughing softly and shaking his just a little.  Logan and Marie spent the afternoon on the hunt.  The deer had been first, and while Marie was fidgety about killing one, there was enough Logan in her now to make the sheer predatory pleasure push aside any of her reservations.  She even nibbled at the fresh, raw meat when they brought it down.  After Logan had eaten his fill, they hung the carcass to bleed it and set off for other lessons.  Logan taught her how to hide, how to mask her scent, how to track other animals - none of them ended up as a meal thanks to the satiation the deer had provided, but Marie enjoyed pursuing these targets almost as much.  It was all so new to her - the sounds, the senses, the adrenaline pumping through her veins.  It was like she’d been reborn in a completely different body.  She felt everything more acutely, sensed a thousand times more of the world around her.  And then there were the urges - animal urges, she knew, and not just ones to hunt.  They clawed at her, and Logan’s stray fantasies of taking her, claiming her for his woman, weren’t helping to tamp them down.  She wondered if he felt like that all the time around her and if so, how he’d managed to push those urges down far enough to keep from jumping her.  She definitely was finding it a struggle not to jump him.    It buzzed in her brain like a mantra, like some ancient, deep-forest chant - take him, make him yours. “Squirrels - not worth the meat ya get, generally.”  Logan’s thick, still-bloodstained finger pointed to one climbing the branches of a tree nearby, breaking her train of thought.  “But if you wanna work off some steam and have a good chase, they’re good for it.  Birds - again, not worth it for the meat ya get.”  His eyes darted back down to the earth, drawn by a movement that had flashed through Marie’s peripheral vision and caught her attention as well.  “Now, rabbits, they’re worth the chase.”  He glanced at her, suddenly really seeing her as a woman again, not a hunting partner.  And what a picture she was - high color, heaving chest, her claws out, smelling of the woods and a fresh kill………and maybe something more.   His eyes pulled down to the claws dangling at her sides, extending down from her delicate hands - claws he had given her.  A part of himself he’d put inside her body.  The idea of Marie the person, Marie the girl who liked polar bears and warm feet, was expanding to include the new Marie standing before him.  Marie the hunter, Marie the sumptuously fertile female, Marie his mate.   That last encompassed all of what she was to him, and appealed to all of what was inside him, both man and animal.  He was so caught up in looking at her, in seeing her anew, that he didn’t notice at first that she’d spoken.  “I don’t know if I’ll want any rabbits.  I mean, they’re *bunnies.*”  She looked at him when he didn’t respond right away.  He was breathing hard and his heart thumped a little louder and faster in her ears when his eyes met hers.  “And if I can bring down a bigger animal, I…….um, Logan?  Are you OK?” “You can bring down whatever you like.  You’re a good hunter,” he purred, taking a step toward her.  “Strong.  Fast.  Powerful.”  He was standing toe-to-toe with her now.  “Like me.”  “A lot like you,” Marie whispered back, unconsciously twitching her claws as she did.  She had this sudden odd urge to put them back in, then tilt her head and expose her jugular.  That, plus the snowballing thump-thump-thump in her own chest and the warmth beginning to pool between her legs was driving her crazy.  She let her claws slide in slowly, and watched as Logan’s came out.  “Logan……..” “Grrrr…….”  He walked her backwards until she smacked solidly into a thick tree trunk.  “Marie……….” “Logan, what are we doing?” she panted, eyes darting everywhere but his now.  He planted both sets of claws in the tree, one inches from her left shoulder and one framing the right side of her face.   “Logan………”  He leaned in and pressed his hips to hers, letting her feel his excitement through his sweats.  “Unnnnhhh……….”  She felt like she was losing control.  One long leg lifted off the ground and curled itself around Logan’s powerful thigh then dropped away again quickly.  “Logan, we - we shouldn’t do this.  We……..”  He began to rock against her body and although he wasn’t trying to produce any pleasure but his own, Marie felt her body begin to spin out of control.  “We…….” “RRRRRR……..” “Oh God………”  She felt the vibration from that growl in every single nerve ending in her body, and that was the end to her resistance.  There was no more fighting it.  She hiked one leg up to clench his hips to her, then the other, and threw her head back in ecstasy as he pounded her against the tree harder and harder.  “Logan………” His mouth found her shoulder and he bit down hard, bruising her even through her sweater.  With just a few more frantic thrusts, he came, exploding in a long release, howling out her name to the forest as he did.  After a few more slow but still forceful thrusts, he came fully back to himself, surprised to find her still tense and frowning.  He took a tentative sniff and instinctively knew she hadn’t been satisfied, not like he had.  The problem was that he had no idea how to make her explode like that.  He simply didn’t remember, if he ever even knew.  But Marie seemed to have some ideas of her own.  Her legs were still holding him to her and when he looked into her eyes, she gave out a whine and a tentative rock of her hips.  But the hardness she needed to grind herself against had been dissipated. At least for now.  She whined again, this time almost keening in frustration.  Logan knew he had to do something.  She was his mate, after all.  Another wiggle, this time hitting his hip bone, gave him an idea.  He retracted the claws and slid one hand between them, pushing the pad of his open palm tightly against the spot she seemed to be trying to get friction for.  “Mmmmm!”  That seemed to be doing the trick.  She bucked wildly against his hand, then brought one of her own hands down to guide him to the precise spot where she needed him.  “Unnnnhhhh!”  Suddenly, he felt a rush of slick moisture on his palm and she stopped moving so madly against him.  But she hadn’t eased her iron grip on his hand.  “Marie?” “Logan,” she panted, “God…………….”  He breathed in thick, almost tangible, evidence of her satisfaction and smiled.  She finally let go of his hand, and her eyes flitted up towards him - they were suddenly shy, suddenly unsure.  His strong, assured mate had evaporated, just like that.  She’d been replaced by this almost fragile-looking, blushing girl.  “I - I don’t know what to say.” “You don’t hafta say anything.”  To Logan, it was fairly plain what had happened - she’d made her choice.  She’d chosen him. He had a woman - more than that, a mate - and he was well-pleased with her.  “I didn’t mean to get carried away like that.”  She slowly disengaged her legs, carefully parting from him.  “I went all wild, I don’t know what came over me.”  Her eyes were downcast now, and her cheeks were flushed with something other than passion.  “I liked it.” That seemed to surprise her; her head snapped up and there was a hint, just a hint, of the confident predator back.  “You did?” “Uh-huh.”  She looked at him, seemingly deciding something.  Her shyness suddenly fell away, just like that, completely supplanted by an intense curiosity he’d never seen on her before.  “Would you like to do it again sometime?  You know, with me.” “Yeah.  Lotsa times.”  She bit her bottom lip and he leaned into her for a full-body grind.  “You feel good.” “Just be careful of my skin, OK?”  Logan nodded.  “I - I liked it too.”  She ran her gloved hands up his arms and squeezed, hard, when she came to his biceps.  “I liked it,” she repeated, more confidently.  “Marie -  ”  He just had to make sure of one thing before they finished this.  “You’re with me.”  It was a statement, not a question, but he knew if she had any objections, they’d come out now.  “You’re inside me, Logan - a lot of you is inside me now and I - yes.  Yes.  I’m with you now.”  She gave him a slower, more sensual version of the full-body rub he’d just given her.  Judging by the way his eyes rolled back in his head, he’d liked it quite a bit.  “Come on, show me - show me more.  I want to learn everything.”  Another grind.  Slower.  “I want you to teach me.”  Her eyes dipped to the large wet spot in his sweats.  “Logan………”  Her breathing was back up and her scent was spicy again.  Logan gently pulled her away from the tree and lowered her to the ground, and proceeded to do as she’d asked.  “Everyone settled in?”  Scott inquired.  He’d slowly made his way back to the quarters he’d assigned to Kitty after seeing to it that her people had been fed, clothed, and each given a room at the mansion.  He should be preparing to speak to the residents tonight, but something had drawn him to Kitty at the moment.  For once, Scott ignored his meticulous tendencies in favor of following his gut. “Yes,” she replied, slowly turning to look at him.  Sparing him a small smile, she added, “Thank you.” “You’re quite welcome.”  Scott was quite enjoying the look of her - fresh clothes, still-wet hair, and a freshly-scrubbed glow in her complexion that hundreds of miles of long, dirty travel must have long-buried when he first met her.  She looked good, very good.  In fact, she looked so good that it didn’t quite register with him that she was saying something.  “Um, what?” “I said,” Kitty repeated slowly, “that I’d been wondering why you assigned me these particular quarters.  I told you - I don’t need a lot of space.” Scott shrugged.  “You’re their leader.  You might not need the suite for yourself, but it can’t hurt to have it - your people will need to see you, need to consult with you, and you’ll need space for that and some space to keep personal, something all your own.” Her eyes darkened as she considered his words.  “And the fact that it’s right next door to your quarters……” Scott’s eyes darted to the floor.  “…….is a coincidence.  I didn’t mean to imply anything.” “OK,” she allowed, clearly deciding to let the subject drop.  “What about your people?  What will you tell them tonight at the big meeting?" “That we have some new arrivals.  That some are human, but that many are women.”  Scott saw Kitty’s shoulders tense a bit at that.  “I gave you my word - they won’t be harmed.” She quirked an eyebrow up at him.  “And you honestly believe that they’ll hear anything you say that comes after the ‘women’ part?” “I’m just hoping they’ll still be listening after the ‘human’ part,” Scott replied.  “But I meant what I said - this isn’t some lawless, wild west saloon.  This is the Professor’s mansion, and I intend to keep the peace.  It’s my duty.” Kitty nodded once, solemnly, but then her lips twitched into a grin.  “You watched an awful lot of Gunsmoke reruns as a kid, didn’t you?” “Every single one, Miss Kitty.”  That got an outright laugh.  He liked how she looked when she did that.  Maybe a little too much.  There was still business at hand, there were still things to be done before tonight.  “Come on - I’ll give you a tour of the place before the meeting.  Might as well know where everything is.”  Kitty nodded, and they were off.  “Whaddya think is goin’ on in there?”  Logan had stopped outside the large bay window before heading back into the mansion.  He’d been smelling people all over the grounds as he and Marie made their way out of the woods and onto the lawn, and the dozens of people he could see assembled in the library were an obvious anomaly.  Logan just didn’t know what kind of threat they presented, if any.  And he wasn’t about to lead Marie back in there without having some idea.  “It looks like they’re just talking,” Marie observed.  “Some of ‘em are human.  I smelled ‘em.”  Marie frowned at that.  “Don’t make no sense.” “Maybe they got lost.” “Maybe,” Logan concurred, watching the petite brunette woman who seemed to be their leader shake hands with Scott.  At the conclusion of the handshake, they both smiled and turned to their respective constituencies with great ceremony and more than a little tension.  “Maybe not.” “They’re letting the humans stay here?” Marie guessed.  Logan shrugged.  “That’s odd.”  Suddenly, the idea made her quite nervous - she wasn’t quite sure why, and she tried to think it through.  OK - there were more people, and that meant more opportunities to hurt someone with her skin accidentally, or to be hurt by one of them who feared her.  And, with Logan’s senses, it meant many more confusing scents and sounds - she’d already been a bit overwhelmed by the multitude of scents they’d tracked through the forest.  She wasn’t quite sure how Logan could stand it.  And if all of that sensory input was crammed into small rooms and smaller hallways……..  “Logan - ” “Easy,” he purred.  She realized belatedly that he could probably smell every shift in her emotional landscape, and that he knew her well enough to make a very good guess as to what she was thinking and what her precise level of anxiety was.  “I’m here.  I’m lookin’ out for ya.  And we don’t hafta stay here, remember?”  His tone told her that the last part was clearly the most appealing option to him.  And the way some of the mutant men were eyeing some of the newly arrived women reminded her of another one of the reasons it might be a good option for her as well.  There were still some men who would be un-paired, even if all the women who’d just arrived took a man from among the mutant group.  That didn’t bode well for the stability of their little society.  Her experience with Toad had hammered into her mind that, while Scott might be far more Boy Scout than Rapacious Viking Pillager, she could not be sure that the same was true of anyone else just because they were under his leadership.  “Marie?” “Sorry.  Thinking.”  Logan nodded, waiting her out.  “Let’s find out what’s going on,” she suggested, with the unspoken ‘and then let’s get the hell out of here’ left hanging between them.  She didn’t like acting without all the information she could gather, but on the other hand, Marie wasn’t one to turn on her instincts, especially now, and they were all but screaming at her to leave this place.  She wondered if Logan had felt like this here all along. “Yep,” Logan agreed, motioning for her to stay put while he treaded toward the mansion door.  “I’ll do it.” “Be careful,” Marie called after him.  She thought she heard a soft grunt before he disappeared inside. “Ororo?” Hank called, seeking his pregnant wife.  He was disturbed, more than a little, by the fact that she’d refused to attend tonight’s meeting.  He knew that her time in human captivity had been brutal, and the fact that she’d never really spoken about it in anything but the most broad generalities didn’t hinder his fine grasp of just how tortuous it must’ve been for her.  The scars she bore on her back and shoulders spoke volumes, as did the electrical burns on her arms and legs.  Still, he’d always known her to be a serene, forgiving woman, and she’d never spouted some of the anti-human sentiments that some at the mansion were given to indulging in.   If she were holding a grudge against her long-dead human captors or, indeed, their entire species, she had given few hints.  Well - perhaps until now.  “Ororo?” “In here, Henry.”  There was a strain in her voice that he didn’t like.  As he rounded the corner of their quarters to find her packing a suitcase, his concern grew exponentially.  “What - what are you doing?” “I am packing,” she replied, with a hint of ice in her voice.  Irrationally, Hank wanted to slow everything down, to reply the scene and go back to look for clues he had clearly missed that something was very, very wrong.  But all he could do now was stammer out a question. “Why?  Ah, I mean to say - ah, why?” “I have informed Scott,” she began, never staying her efforts for even a moment, “that I do not wish to reside with humans.  He has informed me that his decision has been made.  Therefore, I will be leaving.”  Hank approached her slowly, carefully.  He’d never heard this deliberate, measured tone from her before.  “I am certain that we can discuss this, that we can reach a solution.” “I am certain that there *is* no solution that will meet both my needs and Scott’s.”  She straightened her posture for a moment, rubbing at her lower back.  Hank’s eyebrows knit in concern and he moved to soothe her, but before his hand was within reach, she resumed her eerily efficient waddle toward their dresser.  “This, my dear Henry, is one problem that you cannot solve.” Hank stood there, looking around the room, as though searching for some sign that this was all some horrible dream or hallucination.  Finding none, he decided to go ahead and deal with reality as it was - as difficult as that might be, Hank had found denial and avoidance even more painful in the long run.  “Then I suppose I shall retrieve my suitcase,” he pronounced.  He then strode to the closet and pulled out the largest of his set, laid it down on their bed, and ambled over to the dresser to begin packing.  “What are you doing?”  Ororo asked, her own tasks forgotten.  “Well, my love, I am packing.  It does seem to be prudent to take our things if we must leave.” Her unwavering gaze followed him for several long minutes, as he agilely trotted back and forth between bed and dresser.  “I said that *I* must leave.  I did not make that decision for you.” “Yes, my love, you have.”  Hank offered no further explanation, and, upon emptying the dresser of his things, headed off to the closet.  Ororo struggled to keep her composure and gather her thoughts.  “You cannot ask me to stay here with……..with *them*.”  Hank paused, shirts in hand, and let out a long sigh.  “I have never spoken of what…….transpired while they had me, and I *refuse* to ever give them one more moment, one more word, one more thought than they have already stolen from me, but I cannot - ” “I understand,” Hank whispered softly, turning to face her.  “I will not ask you to stay.  Even though I believe that it means greater danger for you to leave the mansion than to remain, even though I know that it means greater danger for our unborn son, even though I am greatly reticent to part with the wonderful equipment at my disposal and all of my scientific work downstairs, I know that I cannot ask you to stay here.  And so, I shall not - I shall go with you instead.”  His tone at the end was simple, plain, and when the words had finished, he resumed packing.  When he reached the bed, Ororo enveloped him in a tight hug.  “I am but a simple man,” he whispered, gently stroking her back.  “I have simple needs and chief among their number is you, my love.  We shall leave here.  We shall - well, I am not certain exactly where we shall go, but - ” “Africa,” Ororo muttered, still burying her head against his shoulder.  “Oh my love, I think that perhaps we should select an intermediate destination.  I do not think we can reach your home country in your present condition, or with an infant.  An ocean voyage would be necessitated and - ” “I know,” she interrupted, parting from him to face him.  Her eyes were bright with tears, and her face was red from crying, but to Hank, she looked beautiful.  “I had a moment,” she offered, shrugging and looking like a disobedient yet repentant little girl - it was the first time Hank had ever seen that particular expression and he found it quite endearing. “Quite acceptable,” he beamed, stroking her cheek.  “Perhaps we should go west, yes?” Ororo gathered herself and gave it a few moments’ serious thought.  “Yes,” she said finally, “Fewer cities.  Fewer people.  Nature.  The land.  Open space.  Resources.  Yes.” Hank nodded.  “That, and, well, we are running out of east and I did mean what I said about the inadvisability of an ocean voyage at this juncture.”  Ororo smiled, and Hank laughed.  Then, they both resumed packing. “I think we should leave,” Marie whispered to Logan as they sat in the now-vacant library.  There was really no need for measures to engender the secrecy of her words - the mansion residents were nearly all outside, partly celebrating newfound friends and potential mates, and partly warily eyeing one another.  No, Marie’s low tones were more out of solemnity and deference to her new, much more personal understanding of Logan’s auditory sensitivities.  “No argument here,” he grunted, matching her lowered tone but not quite whispering.  “Where to?” “I - I don’t know.  I guess Alaska.” “Long way.” “I know,” Marie admitted.  “But they have polar bears.” “Mph.” “You know,” she ventured, “I know the polar bear thing is silly, and I know we have to think about survival and everything, and I really, really understand if you just want to - ” “Alaska’s fine.  Just - it’s a long way.  Lotta walkin’.”  He was looking back at her with an almost blankly plain expression, as though there wasn’t any reason at all why selecting Alaska on the basis of it’s polar bear content might be a problem.  Marie felt a huge surge of affection for him.  “I’ve got good shoes,” she purred, watching with satisfaction as the change in her tone and scent had an obvious impact on Logan.  “Besides, we can always see if Scott will let us have one of the cars.  They have lots of them.” “Don’t like cars.” “Me either, not really.  I kind of wouldn’t mind walking.  But it’s thousands of miles.  Riding at least some of the way wouldn’t be bad.” “Mph.”  Marie waited him out a bit, then gave him a look that indicated that further explanation was required.  “Could ride outta this place, and down the road a bit.  Heard McCoy talkin’ about leavin’ too, haulin’ his pregnant woman with him.  Could ride with him a while, might not be too bad.  Could ditch him when we get clear of all the people and cities.  Gonna hafta go on foot to go the most direct way.” “Hank is leaving?  With Ororo?” Logan nodded.  “Some shit about her not mixin’ well with humans.  Don’t blame her.” Marie scowled at Logan’s dark tone and final words and something clicked into place for her.  She’d wanted to leave since the humans came, her instincts had been *screaming* at her to leave, not just because of the threat to her, or the threat of sensory overload, but because of Logan’s memories of the treatment he’d suffered at the hands of the humans.  *Of course* she was no longer happy-go-lucky, social Marie, always wanting to be around people, and the more the merrier - the fear and aversion spawned by Logan’s experiences was burying all of that, was demanding that she run.  Slowly, she turned to Logan.  “I get it.” “Get what?” “Why you didn’t want to come here or be around people.”  No further explanation was needed; he understood exactly what she was talking about, and he gave a slow nod.  “I’m sorry.” “You didn’t do anythin’ to me.” “No, I know - I mean - I’m sorry that you don’t like people in general.  Wait, that sounded stupid.  I mean - I’m sorry that you don’t enjoy social…….dammit, I can’t get it out right.  What I mean is that I’m sorry I dragged you here.  And……..”  Marie put her palm to her forehead and rubbed at it, trying to summon by will the right words.  “Hey - it don’t bother me that I don’t like people.”  Logan grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her hand away from her forehead.  “No loss.  Don’t worry ‘bout it.”  Marie didn’t say anything, she just gave him a very soft look.  “People - they’re fucked up anyhow.  Who needs ‘em?” “I used to,” Marie replied seriously.  “But now……..” “Now?”  Logan prompted, the growing tension obvious in his body.  “Now, I think hanging out with just you for a while would be really nice.”  She watched as he let out a breath and relaxed.  “Let’s find out where Hank and Ororo are headed.  Let’s hop a ride with them for a little while, but let’s head off on our own once we get fairly clear of the cities.  Let’s - let’s go to Alaska.” Logan nodded, and shifted his grip on her hand to interlace their fingers and hold it tighter.  “OK.  Alaska.” “Please reconsider,” Scott urged.  “We need you here, Hank.” “And Ororo needs to leave.”  The words came out in an even, slow voice, and Scott knew that meant Hank was serious.  “My primary obligation is to her, and to our child.” “I understand that, Hank, I do, but Ororo - she’s being a little irrational.  We can protect her here.  You and I can protect her, Hank - there’s no need for her to leave.  Can’t you talk to her?” Hank thought about it for a moment.  “I do not believe that there are any words that could counter her experiences.  I agree, Scott, that she is safer here than elsewhere, but I also believe that there is no way to truly convince her of that.  Were she to stay, she would constantly feel apprehensive.  She would always be waiting for some attack to come.  That is no way to live, and it is no way to raise a child.  It is not her fault, Scott, that she feels this way - in fact, it is a perfectly understandable and rational response to her experiences at the hands of the humans.  It is self-preservatory, at its core and I do not think that I can ‘talk’ her into or out of her basic, genetically-hardwired desire to keep herself safe and alive.  I know well the risks of leaving the relative sanctuary of the mansion.  But we must leave here nonetheless.” “But what about us?  What will we do for medical help?  For -for scientific help?” “Perhaps someone else will come along.” “Another super-genius?”  Scott scoffed.  “Hank, please reconsider.  I’ll do whatever we need to, to make Ororo comfortable.  We can put you out in the lodge, we can install all kinds of security, we can - ” “Scott,” Hank interrupted softly, “she is not meant to be caged, and making her a prisoner in her own home will only make the situation worse.  I am leaving.  With Ororo.  This afternoon.  You must accept this.” Scott shook his head and wearily shuffled back to his desk chair, slumping into it and seemingly accepting defeat.  “Will you maintain radio contact with us, at least?” “Of course.”  Scott frowned.  “And I shall miss you, my friend.”  “I’ll miss you too, Hank.  I wish you didn’t have to go.” “As do I.”  Hank took a step towards his old friend and extended his hand.  Scott shook it, but couldn’t muster a brave smile or even the hint of one at their parting.  Hank turned to go, and Scott slumped back into his chair, wondering just what he was going to do now. His dark thoughts were soon interrupted by the arrival of Kitty, and he spared her an upward glance before returning to his brooding.  “I heard that Hank’s leaving,” she began.  “Am I the last to know?” “No,” she mused, “Probably just the hardest for him to tell.  I’m sorry.  He seemed very nice.” “He was,”  Scott allowed.  “And more than that - he was useful.  He made incredible contributions to the mansion.  I don’t know what we’ll do without him.  I honestly don’t know.” “You’ll go on,” Kitty supplied.  “Just like you have before.”  Scott’s thoughts turned to losing the Professor, then Jean.  He didn’t know if he had it in him to pick up the pieces and move on one more time.  “You’ll be OK,” Kitty added, seemingly sensing his mood.  There was something more than mere empathy in her expression, though.  It looked almost like she was up to something.  “I’m here to help you, and we all - well, we’ll make it.  Even without Hank and Ororo and Logan and Rogue.  We’ll be OK.” “Logan and Rogue?”  Scott asked, lost. Kitty gave her best sympathetic nod.  “I think they’re hitching a ride with Hank for a while.  They’re leaving today too.  You didn’t know?” “No,” Scott answered slowly, with irritation replacing the melancholy in his voice.  “What the heck is going on here?  I guess I really *am* the last to know everything.” “Nah,” Kitty offered, helping herself a seat on his desk, “I overheard Rogue talking to Hank in the hall just now.  I’m just teasing you, giving you a hard time.”  Surprised, Scott raised his head to meet her eyes.  She arched one eyebrow at him, unrepentant.  “Oh come on, I come in and you’re all slumped down behind the desk, all ‘woe is me’ because Hank is going.  I know he’s your friend, and I know you’ll really miss him and not just for his ‘usefulness’ but it really is going to be OK.  We’ve all dealt with worse, and you’re their leader - you can’t let them see you get all mopey and down about it.  If you take it really hard, they will too.  If you have the attitude that - OK, it’s not going to be fun to lose them, but we’ll manage - then everyone else will too.”  Scott smiled a little, for the first time that day.  “I guess you’re right.  You know, I like how you think, Kitty.”  That got him an unexpected blush and Scott’s smile widened.  “You’re not a bad leader yourself.” “Mmm……” she equivocated, still no longer meeting his eyes but allowing a mischievous smile to creep across her lips.  “I guess.  I mean, at least *I* know who’s coming and going before some chick who just got here yesterday…….” Scott laughed, and reached for her hand, then gently pulled her from her perch atop his desk.  “You’re quite right.  We might make a good team, you know…….” “Maybe,” she allowed, blushing even more now.  “Come on, let’s go downstairs and take an inventory of what Hank’s leaving.  We can make a plan once we know what equipment we’ll have to work with - and I’ll bet he left a task list too.” Scott shook his head a little, and followed her out of his offices.  She was right - they would be OK.  And maybe, just maybe, with her here now, he had the first real chance in a long time at being better than OK. “And go in the spring or fall.  You may also want to try near Barrow - or, what was formerly Barrow.  The population was sparse to begin with, and I very much doubt there will be anyone left there now.” “Thanks for the polar bear viewing hints, Hank.  I’m so jealous that you’ve gotten to see them.” “It was indeed a spectacular experience.  Perhaps one day our child would like to go on a polar bear adventure --what do you think, love?” “I think that Alaska is cold, my dear Henry, and that those members of the family that are furred should make the journey themselves.”  She was smiling and her words were playful, and all of the car’s occupants were well-aware that she was teasing.  “Ah,” Hank replied, giving Ororo an indulgent look.  “Well, perhaps it is best that we are heading for the midwest, then.” “Have you decided on a specific place?” Rogue asked.  “Not really,” Ororo responded, “But we thought that perhaps southern Ohio or Indiana would provide temperate enough climates while also giving us some fertile ground for farming.” “Gotta look for good huntin’ too,” Logan put in.  “I am a vegetarian,” Ororo responded.  Logan shot Hank a glance that clearly said he didn’t believe a man with fangs and claws just built for hunting could mate himself to a vegetarian.  Hank only gave him a small smile in return.  “In any case,” Ororo went on, “we are glad you have joined us for part of the journey.  It is always good to have companionable travel partners.” “Indeed,” Hank concurred.  Rogue reached out for Logan’s hand and held it, exchanging a smile with him as they headed off in search of polar bears, and whatever else awaited them along the way.